Hannah Abbott

Susan, lunch, girl talk

Thu, 06 Dec 2007 05:04:17 GMT

Dear Susan,

I haven't seen you since you helped us move in. You did a really great job and took the lead in getting everything organized. I appreciate it. Other than noticing how much you and Ernie kept looking at each other, we really didn't have a chance to talk with all the crowd. Can you go to lunch with me on Wednesday? My treat.

Hannah

I send the note with Trevor before I floo to work. Hopefully Susan will be free to come to lunch. I want to know how things have been progressing with her and Ernie.

I get an owl back from Susan later that day.

Dear Hannah,

Lunch Wednesday will be brilliant. What time do you want to get together? I have a piano lesson cancellation at half eleven and don't need to be back for another tutoring group until one. Also, do you want to come meet Ernie's cat? He brings her to my studio every morning because she's lonely if she's not around people. I'll tell you more about her at lunch. If we meet at my studio I could feed her before we leave rather than after I get back. Let me know what time is best for you.

Susan

Good, she can come. I answer her letter.

Dear Susan,

11:30 is perfect. I will come and pick you up so I can meet this cat of his. Hannah

Now I just have to wait for Wednesday.

At 11:15 Wednesday, I tell the secretary I will be gone for lunch and head down to Susan's studio, The Musical Notebook. I haven't been in here before. Wow, she's done some brilliant things with setting this up. The door bell jingles as I open the door, and Susan comes in from the back room. "Hi Susan. Ready for lunch?"

"Hi, Hannah!," she says, cuddling a black cat to her and stroking the glistening fur. "I'm definitely ready, but first I need to feed Brio. Would you like to hold her? She has a penchant for escaping when the door is open."

I reach out my arms. "Sure." She puts the little black purring motor in my arms and I stroke her soft fur. "She's very sweet."

"I think so, too," Susan says. She reaches under the counter for a canister and walks down the center corridor to the very back of the studio where she tips a measure of something into a dish on the floor. "Hannah, you can bring her back now. I've filled her water and food bowls."

I bring the rumbling kitten to Susan and put her in front of her food. "You have her every day? Weekends too? You must be seeing a lot of Ernie then." I grin.

"Actually, I only have Brio here at the studio. I'm not sure what Ernie does with her on weekends, but he has told me that she's a much better behaved cat now that she's getting the attention she was craving. We also discovered that she has some specialized magical behaviors that have come in handy, let me tell you!" Susan strokes Brio's back and the little cat arches towards her hand as she eats.

"She's a magic cat? Not like a Kneazle, but a magical cat?" I ask.

As we walk into Susan's office for her coat and handbag she tells me, "Not a speck of Kneazle in her. Ernie thought she was an ordinary stray when he rescued her from a sewer grate a couple of months ago. She was all right for a couple of weeks, then about three weeks ago he found out that the family's house-elves have been cleaning his room several times a day to keep up with the messes she made. He was at his wits' end because he just can't take time off for a cat</i>, so I volunteered to take her for a day and she did very well." As we emerge from the office Susan glances down at the empty food and water bowls and fills up the water one. She smiles. "I bet the little scamp has moved her meal to her cat bed again. She does it magically, almost like a banishing charm."

"She moves her food and water to eat in bed?" I laugh. "Does she have a television set there too?"

"No. The first day I had the bed here in the back, but around noon I watched her direct it to the top of the lefthand counter where she can lay down and see everything going on in the front and out on the street! She's really good at locating misplaced objects and seems to intuitively know what I've lost. It's been a great help since I move around my classrooms so much helping my students."

"Do you think she could be an animagus?" I ask, since I have never heard of magical cats.

"I'll have to bring that one up with Ernie, but no, I don't think so. She's growing like a normal feline should," Susan says as we close the studio door and she locks it behind us.

"Megan's boyfriend teaches Care of Magical Creatures, right? Maybe he could answer some questions about her." We stop and wash our hands then walk to the restaurant on Sir Ree L. Istick Alley: Black and White.

"Charlie Weasley? I never thought of him! What a good idea, Hannah. I'll send him a note with Harmony later this afternoon." We reach the restaurant and go in.

"Get anything you want. This one is on me." I grin as we sit down with the menus. I really don't care that this place is a little pricey. Since becoming a full attorney and bringing in a few prime clients, like the Travettis, my paychecks are far larger than they us

ed to be.

Puff Party Plus

Sun, 11 Nov 2007 02:01:09 GMT

I can hear the shower running. I wait until it turns off. I know he's toweling off on the other side of the door. "Neville? It's my turn to do the Puff girls night, and since we're finishing moving tonight, I thought we could make it a combination work party. You and the wizards can finish moving the big stuff and put them in the right places while we have a little witch party in the kitchen and gossip and eat chocolate--we'd be putting away dishes and things too. Does that sound all right with you?"

"Uh huh"

"Okay. Bye. I'll see you tonight." I hurry off to work on the case that is going to court on Monday. I hope he heard me.

While I'm there I owl the girls.

Megan, Katie and Susan,

Puff party tonight. My place. Bring friends. I'll explain more when you get here, Hannah.

I send it off, then think twice about it. Didn't Megan say something about a date tonight?

After work I hurry home--only it won't be home much longer. The furniture is all gone. Neville and the wizards have already moved it. So are the plants and boxes. I start taking the pictures off the walls. He must already be at the Longbottom Manor. Longbottom Manor. I'm going to have to start calling it home.

I hope the girls are okay with me putting them to work unloading the boxes and putting things away in the kitchen while we talk and eat chocolate. Well, maybe not; they don't have to work if they don't want to. They can just sit there and watch me in my tiger slippers get to work and eat chocolate. I hear a knock on the door. I hope I can find my tiger slippers in all the moving mess at the Manor. I open the door. It looks like Megan and Susan--oh good, she brought Nina--arrived at the same time. Here comes Katie up the hallway.

We exchange hugs. "Come in. There's been a little change of plans. Neville and I are moving. So as soon as I grab the last of this stuff, we can all go over to the Longbottom Manor together. Is that all right with all of you?" I add worriedly.

Meeting with a brilliant inventor

Sat, 27 Oct 2007 04:19:11 GMT

"Miss Abbott, your next client is here."

"Send her in, but give me three minutes," I tell her. I hurriedly
clear away the detritus from my last client and get out Luna's file.
Then I make sure I have fresh coffee and tea ready. I know, I'm an
attorney, not a hostess, but I'm also a female. Certain courtesies
just make things go smoother.

I wish Neville was my client. We'd get to talk more. I bury that
thought deeply and gear myself up to talk to Luna. Professional. Calm.

My office door opens. I stand up and smile, extending my hand.
"Hello, Luna. How are you?"

She walks in and smiles back, the vague smile I've come to learn isn't really vague but more preoccupied with her never ending thoughts. "Oh, if you will wait then I shall make you some tea," she says, looking at my offered hand. "Hello Hannah and I am well. How are you? You take your tea black."

I sit back in my seat, surprised and gratified. "Thank you, Luna." I had no idea how much it meant to me to not have to serve someone until she did it for me. "You are very sweet to serve me my tea."

"You are very sweet to help me with my patents," she answers, pouring a cup of tea and putting a wedge of lemon on the saucer. This she hands to me and turns back to the teatray. "It was lovely to have you at the house. Thank you for coming."

"It's a lovely house, Luna. Did you like the gifts?" I ask hesitantly, my sense of etiquette suddenly flying out the window.

"Oh, very much so, thank you," she says, dropping a cube of sugar into her cup and taking her seat across from me. "The plant and my birthday violets are good friends. And the bookends are so very helpful! We haven't enough for them to stand on their own on a shelf yet, and so these keep them safe."

I grin. "I'm glad." I smooth out the papers on my desk. "Shall we discuss the latest invention you'd like to patent?"

"Oh yes," she says, sitting straight up in her seat. "Well, it is the one with the memories, as I had mentioned to you last time that I was interested in pursuing." She sets her tea on my desk and turns to her portfolio, taking from it two thin slabs of slate tied together. This she hands to me.

I handle it carefully. "Shall I open it?" I ask.

"Oh yes, it is perfectly alright to," she responds, nodding her head. "I put it between stone because memories need to be stored in either stone, glass, or crystal, and I had no spare glass or crystal."

"Oh," I say stupidly, then part the slate pieces and look at the ribbon. "This is full of memories? How does it work?"

Luna leans forward in her seat and points to the ribbon, running her finger in the air right down the middle. "The furthest out thread that you see that is like a ridge or mountain range running down the middle like that will be the first memory you see, because it is the first memory that touches your skin. When you lay the ribbon on your forehead or over your eyes, it will take you to the table of contents, which is where you are to decide whether to start at the beginning or continue on a later chapter. You see, even though the memories you touch in the memory will not take you to the next memory, the decision of your brain triggers the selected memory to start, just as you search in your own brain for a memory, the same can be done in the ribbon."

"How do you store the memories on the ribbon?" I ask. Wow, this is really brilliant if it works. And it will have applications to more than books if it does.

"The ribbon is made entirely of memories," she explains. "When a copy of a memory is removed, it resembles a long silver thread, much like Yule tinsel. The ribbon is simply a collection of several ribbons knitted together with crystal knitting needles."

So the ribbons are made of memories woven together. Fascinating. "How are they gathered? And from whom? How is a book put into them?" I ask excitedly.

"This one is comprised of memories extracted with a spell from me," she explains, scotting her chair forward and leaning more toward me. "When I had been researching memories this Spring, I discovered that the memory only shows you what is happening around you. It does not show your thoughts. And so to experience a book using a memory, it would need to be read aloud. The book I chose for my trial ribbon is one called The Dark Is Rising by Susan Cooper. I sat down in a room with no distractions in it and read aloud the book by chapter, making sure that I separated each chapter in my mind.

"Later, when I extracted the memories using the charm, I focussed only on the memory of me reading the chapter aloud, not a bit before or a bit after. When I collected all the chapter memories, I knitted them together. However, the first trial came with some problems, as there is no order to how the mind will receive these memories. After much thought, I realized that in a dream, a decision that you make will steer the dream, and while the memories cannot be changed, you can decide what memory you wish to see next. That is when I decided on a table of contents."

"Fascinating. What kinds of books will you use? What kind is this one?"

Her eyes go wide and she sits back in her chair, looking into the air. "Oh, it can be used for any books. This is a fiction novel. It is part of a quintet of books for adolescents, but it is lovely for adults as well. My mother loved the book very much."

"Quintet?" I pick up the ribbon. "May I?" I put it against my forehead. THe Dark Is Rising "Sounds like something about our lives."

I feel myself tip forward and then see Luna, sitting in a chair in the library. There's a table beside her. I didn't see either of them when we visited; they didn't have much furniture. "Hello," she says, looking toward me. "This is the table of contents for The Dark Is Rising, by Susan Cooper. Here you may decide which chapter you wish to experience. If you are just starting the book, it would be best to start at Chapter One, Midwinter's Eve. If you are continuing the book, please select the next chapter, or the chapter you were in the midst of when you stopped. If you do not remember which chapter you ended on, I have put the final sentence of each chapter next to that chapter's thread."

I listen to Luna's voice reading the book, in her airy drawl and see her in my mind as I do. I even see the room that Luna made the recording in. "Are you going to be the narrator on all of the books?"

I feel a hand on my wrist and feel a little disoriented when I tip back up into my office as I pull the ribbon away. "I am sorry, but I do not think you would hear me if you are immersed in my memory. I have asked Professor Remus Lupin to narrate the books, though he has not contacted me to say whether or not he will."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Would you consider getting a professional narrator? An actor perhaps?" I ask.

"Well yes, if you think it best," she replies. "And perhaps the room that they read in can be decorated like the story. Such as the first chapter can be in a snowy field or in the Stanton's cozy kitchen. And I suppose we should need permission from the authors to use their works."

"Yes, all good ideas," I say, writing quickly. I pull out a file on the theatrical manager we represent. "You may want to contact this person regarding narrators," I tell her, writing the name on a card.

She takes the card and looks at the name written there. "Hannah, I have already asked Professor Remus Lupin to narrate for me. What shall I tell him?"

"Well, you can find a book and have him do it and see how it goes. But maybe something he loves---. But I think the vast majority of your applications will need to be professionally narrated." I explain.

Luna nods, placing the card in her portfolio. "We will have him do a trial, then. But I do see why you say that they should be professionally narrated. A consumer will be more likely to purchase something that has a name they recognize, and it would be good for the flow and impact of the story if it was presented by somebody who has been trained on such things."

"Yes. Now, here are the patent applications. You'll need to include a detailed drawing and explanation of your process." I push the papers across the desk to her.

She takes the papers and then turns to her portfolio again. "I have brought my notes, as you had me do for the studying chocolate."

"Good. We'll need them." I take her notes. "I'll need a diagram." I hand her a pencil and a piece of parchment, and start filling out the patent applications from her notes.

She bends over the parchment and begins sketching. I glance up a few times and see that some of the notes on the diagrams are in runes.

"Runes?" I ask. Well, I've had Rune study as part of magical law. But she's using some I don't know. "Some of these are unique."

She looks up and her cheeks go a little pink. "Oh my, I suppose I did get carried away. Some of the words are so specific, I used obscure runes and even a few of my own. I will translate them."

"I should know them. Reading runes is part of my job. You have no reason to feel embarrassed over my inadequacies." I look at the description again. She really is brilliant.

"I can get this patent applied for and start the paperwork within the week. You should be hearing from me soon," I tell her.

"Thank you very much," she says with a bright smile. "Should I begin looking for a narrator and inquire with the author for permission to use their work? Or is there a legal something that must be done?"

"Yes, I can ask for the permissions for you, if you like, as your representative. And let me know if you find a professional narrator." I smile at her and let the professionalism drop for a minute. "You know that Colin is very lucky to have such a brilliant person to share his life with. I think Colin and I have something in common there. Neville has been inventing too."

Her eyes brighten. "Oh, has he? That is wonderful! He was always so very clever with plants! Is it to do with plants?"

"It does. He's making houseplants. The flowers have little house mascots in them." And he's writing, and gardening, and so . . . busy. I wish I could see more of him, but at least we end every day in each other's arms.

Luna looks up and grins thoughtfully. "That is very sweet. He would be good at it. And it will keep him busy for a while, I am sure. Sometimes when an invention is done, it is a wonder what to do next."

Sometimes you can be lonely for someone even while they are holding you in bed. I don't think Luna knows what that feels like. "Thank you, Luna. I think our business is about concluded. Do you have any questions?"

She looks down at her hands now and I see a little secret smile on her lips. "Well, have you ever felt as if you could not feel Neville enough?"

"Yes," I say sadly.

She sighs, but it doesn't sound like the kind of sad sigh that I feel. "Well then, that is it, then. Would you like to try it when it is done to try and Colin and I have?"

This last sentence of Luna's befuddles me. "Pardon me?"

She sits up straight and looks straight at me, her eyes wide. "Oh my. I suppose I have done it again! I am thinking of a new invention that is specially for lovers."

"Why don't you just tell me what you meant? You want me to try . . . something? After you and Colin try it? If you like it?"

She goes red. "I am sorry, Hannah. I suppose I am used to Colin. He always seems to know what I mean and I take that for granted. I am going to make a chocolate that is something you can spread on the skin of your lover. But instead of it being an aphrodisiac, like the sex truffles, it is to enhance the sensations of touch, so that you can feel each other deeper than you would with simply touching. And of course, as it is chocolate, it can be licked off."

I blush deeply, judging by how hot my face feels, but I grin. "Yes, Luna. We'll try it."

She brightens immediately. "Oh thank you very much, Hannah! When Colin and I have seen if it works correctly, I shall bring it over directly and I hope that you and Neville will enjoy it very much!"

"We will. Thank you, Luna."

She stands up from her chair and claps her hands in delight, then snaps her elbows together to catch her falling notes. "Well then I shall let you know how it progresses, Hannah, and when I have found a narrator and a book that I would like to do." She shifts from side to side, scooping her portfolio into one arm, and holds out her other hand. "Thank you very much, as always, Hannah. And please tell Neville hello and that it was lovely to see him again and that we four should have dinner sometime together."

"I agree. I would love to spend more time with you two as a couple." I stand and shake her hand. "We will meet again soon. I'll send you an owl."

"I shall look forward to it,"

she says. "Goodbye." I smile smugly as the door closes. I like her.

Choosing a book and an unexpected client

Thu, 25 Oct 2007 15:03:39 GMT

I'm tired of reading law books. I'm tired of researching. I need something . . . light . . . escapist . . . hmmmn. I take off during my lunch break and head for the Flourish and Blotts.

I browse through the books . . . I want something . . . different. OOoh, school age witch falls in love with a vampire, werewolf competes for her affections, romantic triangle. Maybe? I haven't read anything like this before. I leaf through the book gently. It intrigues me. I begin reading it there in the aisle, more intrigued by the moment.

"It's an interesting book if you like romance novels...it's well written." A voice behind me snaps me back to the real world, making me jump.

"You've read it?" I ask, turning around. My astonishment grows. "Theodore Nott?" The quiet Slytherin. Always kept to himself. Not too friendly, but nice looking, for a Slytherin.

He growls slightly, glancing around him, "Keep your voice down! Yes I've read it. It's a good choice for you, Mrs Longbottom."

I grin. I like being called that, well when I'm not at work. "How did you know I married Neville?" I ask.

"Usual way, people speaking, word gets around...Congratulations." The last word sounds like quite a struggle for him to say, like it's expected rather than because he truely means it.

"Well, I'm only Hannah Longbottom when I'm not working. There, I'm still Hannah Abbott." I smile. "Looking for a book? How are you? I haven't seen you since seventh year."

He frowns for a moment, "I'm well. I was actually here for...yes, a book. Sold out I think. You keep your maiden name for your law practice...probably wise. I'm not sure how many people would trust Longbottom's skill with words to get them off the hook..."

My fists bunch up angrily. "I'm proud of his name. I just kept my own name for my practice because it's the name I earned my license to practice under, and it's my father's name. He's an attorney too, and he doesn't have a son, so I am honouring him." I wonder who else thinks I'm ashamed to have the Longbottom name associated with my law practice. Maybe I made a mistake.

He smirks briefly, "I meant no offence...merely pointing out that, had it been Longbottom's name I'd...heard, instead of your own, I would not have sought you out."

I take a step back. "This is not a casual meeting. You sought me out?" Do I really want him for a client if he is such an arse about my husband?

"This was a chance meeting, seeing you now saved me the time of actually finding you later, but yes, I was intending to seek you out." His attention has turned to one of the bookshelves, speaking almost casually, not facing me.

"Perhaps I should buy this book now, and you can follow me back to my office, Mr Nott. I do not have another client today for two hours. But you'll owe me lunch. That was going to be my next stop," I add, in what I hope is a friendly manner.

"It would be my pleasure. Perhaps if there is nothing you need from your office, we could make it a working lunch and we could go directly?"

I feel my cheeks grow warmer. "Mr Nott, I merely meant that you could supply the sandwiches for us at my office. And I was half joking. I wasn't asking you to take me out to lunch."

He tenses visibly. "Theodore...please. And perhaps you weren't asking, but my offer is a sincere one none the less, unless you prefer to have your lunch as free time and not work through it."

"No, we can have a working lunch. All right. You choose the place then." I lead him to the counter and pay for the book. "But I am used to addressing my clients professionally. It helps remind me that I am serving as an attorney. Even with my best friends, I do not use their first names when I am working for them." I grin, "However, I quickly revert back to their names as soon as the business is over."

He holds the door open for me and follows me out into the street, glancing around before he speaks and keeping his voice low.

"Mr Nott is my father's name. As he is a Death Eater that is not a name I would like to associate myself with, if I have a choice. It also avoids my name being written down on anything that can be traced back to me ...Theodore is not a common name, but it is not unique, Theodore Nott, however, is. I trust working with this in mind will not cause too much of a problem for you?" His tone is serious, and slightly concerning. Why would he need such high security?

"Fine, Theodore, I can make an exception," I tell him quietly. Well, this is a first, especially after making myself call my other classmates by their surnames. "Where to?" I ask.

"There is another Alley just off here, it has many restaurants there that perhaps might take your fancy. Some of them are very good and are easily enough arranged to keep business private." He indicates a little way down Diagon Alley, slowing his stride to fit mine.

"I'm intrigued, I admit. I haven't been here before. I've either gone to the Leaky Cauldron or a Muggle restaurant." We turn down an alley, opposite from Knockturn Alley, labeled Sir Ree L Istick Alley.

"I've never been to a Muggle restaurant, but many of the options here differ greatly from the Leaky Cauldron. They're quieter for one, fewer distractions." He pauses outside one of the restaurants, glances from the door to me as if assessing something. Then he smiles, "Yes I think you will like this one, unless there is another choice you would prefer?"

"You're paying for my time, Theodore, so it's your choice." I smirk.

He nods and holds the door open for me again to enter first. Having lunch with a Slytherin is hardly a relaxed situation, but he seems to be accustomed to it, or at least, accustomed to tense situations. We are offered a choice of tables, and Theo indicates a table in a quiet back corner. The server leaves us with menus and hurries off. "I have no idea what is good here, but I'm more interested in what you have to say. Why the subterfuge?"

He smirks slightly, "I'm a Slytherin aren't I? I would have thought by reputation alone you would have expected me to be a little sneaky. As for the menu, I cannot help you there; it is all good, so the choice is yours."

The server returns. "I'll have the French onion soup Au Gratin, and the grilled portabello mushroom sandwich on whole grain bread, and a cup of tea," I say. I wait for Theodore to order. He's being awfully evasive considering this was his idea and he asked for my legal advice.

"I'll have the chargrilled chicken with pesto sauce on french bread and tea again, I think." The server notes it down hurriedly and quickly disappears again.

"They will relax as soon as they realise you aren't going to start a duel with me under the table." He says casually as if talking about the weather.

"That's happened to you before? Or do I look especially threatening?" I ask, folding my arms quietly.

"It is not you, my dear." He says with a slight laugh. I think he intended his words to sound reassuring, but if anything they make me feel more on edge.

"I don't think even Neville has called me dear." The server returns with our tea and tells us the food will be out in a minute. "Why do you need legal counsel, Theodore?"

"Over the past nine months, certain events have occurred. These events were beyond my control...to the vast extent at least, and resulted in me doing things I would rather not have done. I need to know exactly what legal backlash I could expect if this ever came to light."

"So you need me to mount a preemptive defence--assuming your 'activities' ever become known. We are speaking about things done in self defence? Or at least self preservation? I have only served as defence counsel once--and that was on Draco Malfoy's team. You might want someone more experienced if this is going to be a criminal charge. Most of what I do is write wills and business contracts and patents. However, if you choose to keep me as your attorney, I cannot tell anyone anything without your consent, so you may as well tell me what happened." The server leaves our lunches as I finish speaking and quietly slips away.

What's the matter with me?

Fri, 19 Oct 2007 02:22:30 GMT

I'm newly wed to my dream wizard. I have my dream job. . . and I'm stressed out.

We haven't had Daddy and Zemelda over for dinner yet. Neville and I still need to move out of the flat and into the Longbottom Manor. I want to spend some time with Megan and Susan--and Katie too, if those two will be okay with it.

I just feel so . . . Restless. . . Dissatisfied . . . Out of Sorts.

I have the most incredible loving handsome talented wizard in the world for a husband.   So what is the matter with me?

I rest my head in my arms on the desk for a moment and try to focus. I breathe deeply a few times. I feel my eyes tear up. Why?

I check the calendar and suddenly realize that the moon is fighting against me being in a good mood. Merlin, now I know why I'm all messed up inside. Should I warn Neville?    Maybe I can just manage to get my feelings under control before I go home from work, and he never need know.

Did Snape ever teach us a potion for counteracting PMS?   Not that I can remember.

I pour myself a cup of tea, glad that my next client isn't due for an hour.

Making a housecall. . .

Wed, 10 Oct 2007 02:03:12 GMT

I receive an owl from Narcissa Malfoy asking me to meet her at the Malfoy Manor and enclosing a temporary Portkey. She’s all secrecy--so Slytherin of her. But considering Lucius . . . do I really want to go into that Manor? He makes me nervous. However, Knightly and Poppington charge more for house calls . . . so they encourage me to go.

I wait until the appointed time and rub the Portkey. I feel myself being pulled from behind my navel. I end up in the front gardens of a huge Manor---white peacocks strolling on the lawn, immaculately tended exotic gardens(Neville would like these), and ivy covered columns lining the walk to the Manor.

I move down the colonnade towards the Manor. Before I get to the front steps of the mansion, Narcissa Malfoy steps out from a copse of trees. I jump, startled. “You surprised me, Mrs. Malfoy.”

“Pardon me. Let us sit here under the trees. I have some business to discuss with you, and it is too lovely a day to sit inside.”

“All right.” I look around for some chairs. Nothing I can see. I suspect that Mrs. Malfoy doesn’t want me in her home. . . would my blood contaminate it? Or won’t the wards let me through?

Moments later, Mrs. Malfoy conjures two chairs and a table. “Have a seat, Miss Abbott, or is it Mrs. Longbottom?”

“Both, actually. But Miss Abbott for work.” I sit in one chair and put my brief case on the table, opening it to pull out a pad of legal parchment and a quill. “How can I help you, Mrs. Malfoy?”

“You are aware of the terms of Draco’s inheritance? Several of them refer to Draco and his future siblings? The inheritance is shared between them?”

Merlin’s toe ring . . . she can’t mean . . .

“Draco will have a sibling next spring. He does not know yet. Nor is it known generally. I know you are legally bound not to tell. Including bound not to tell even Draco." She raises her eyebrow, reminding me, I can see, that I cannot tell him. "But please activate all the terms of the will that include a sibling. Furthermore, I want the Malfoy Manor left solely to Draco’s sister. He has the French Villa and the Vacation Chalet. He also owns his flat free and clear. She will need property too. So I want the Manor to go to her after I die. She will also get all my jewelry and books. She will receive the Rivili Mansion on her twenty-first birthday.”

Mrs. Malfoy looks at me coolly, daring me to act surprised. Fine, I can play the cool and collected game too. “Very well, Mrs. Malfoy. I will add these to the wills. I can file them secretly. It won’t be on the public record. Does this daughter have a name yet? Or shall I just refer to her as your daughter?”

“We will name her Venus, after the brightest planet, the morning star,” Malfoy almost smiles.

Venus Malfoy? It’s almost as strange as Draco. Well, they are Malfoys. “Lovely. I’ll get this done right away. Is there anything else?”

“No, Miss Abbott. Thank you for your time. Please send me notification by owl when all is completed.”

Does my office smell bad or something? Oh well, when you have her kind of galleons . . . “All right. I’ll send it to you when it’s official. Just sign here.”

She signs on the notes I took. It will be the same legally binding signature on the modified will.

“Good day, Miss Abbott.”

I nod and smile professionally. “Good day, Mrs. Malfoy.” I touch the Portkey and am pulled back to the office. Draco's going to have a little sister and he doesn't know it. And he won't know it from me. I suppress a grin as I go back to my office. Well, that was interesting.

Face to Face

Wed, 03 Oct 2007 19:30:14 GMT

“Ms. Abbott, you have a new client coming in a half an hour.”

I nod my acknowledgment and thanks to the receptionist and set about making sure I have a fresh legal pad of parchment ready.

The door opens and I rise with my hand out to shake the new client’s hand, but in walks Zemelda Smith. This is a business client? I blink, and still myself inside. “Good morning, Minister Smith,” I say professionally, “How may I help you?”

“Cut the phony lawyer act, Hannah. I paid for an hour of your time so we can talk,” she tells me, sitting down across from my desk as I sit down.

I cross my arms defensively as I sit down. “Okay, Zemelda, we can talk.”

“Let’s start with the pleasantries. Thank you for inviting your father and me over for dinner. We accept. Now, you and I seem to not communicate well—but that’s about to change. We are both going to make things very clear. Fair enough?”

“Okay,” I say hesitantly.

She smiles gratuitously. “Good. I can’t believe you were really going to get married and not have your father present, all because you hate me. I know you’ve had a hard time sharing your father with me, but to exclude him from your wedding? Really Hannah, it’s a good thing your friends care more for his feelings than you did. You’ve hurt him terribly.”

Don’t cry, Hannah—“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt Daddy. I love him. It’s just . . .” The words fail me.

She finishes for me. “It’s just you hate me, and you knew he would bring me to your wedding too, if he was told in advance.”

“Zemelda, if all I thought would happen is you would show up, I would have invited you both. I was afraid you’d turn it into a Ministry spectacle for political purposes. That you’d take over and make it a big production. Neville and I wanted it small and simple, especially where his parents . . . “ Does she know? Maybe I shouldn’t say anything about Frank and Alice.

“Where his parents are permanently disabled? Yes, I know. So, this was all about you being afraid I’d use your wedding for political gain and public good will? Hmmmn. Well, I would have. I may still need to throw a little Ministry reception for you two. We are supposed to be close.” She grins at me girlishly.

“Please don’t. We don’t want it,” I tell her.

“Is it that you don’t want it, or you don’t want anything to do with me?” she asks.

“We don’t want it. Really.”

“There are certain public obligations that are part of being the family of the Minister of Magic,” she says sternly.

“I never asked to be the family of the Minister, Zemelda.” My voice is quiet, but firm.

“No, and you have done very little to adjust to it now that it is a fact. Why do you hate me, Hannah? I know I have never been a mother before, but I really would like to at least be your friend. Why won’t you give me a chance?”

She wants the truth? Fine. “I hated you as soon as I saw you in my mother’s negligee coming out of Daddy’s room. You are so different from my mother. I do not see what Daddy sees in you, and if you are his type, then what was Mum?”

“My wearing your mother’s negligee was a faux pas on my part. I apologize. As far as me being different from your mother, can your father not like both of us? Do you never eat vanilla ice cream because you like chocolate? Why else do you dislike me?”

“You pretend to know me, when you don’t. You have no idea what I like, what kind of person I am. You just assume that everything that applied to you at my age applies to me. You talk down to me and put on this sweet girl voice. And even if you can convince me that Dad chose you—I mean, you are pretty and intelligent—but even if you can convince me of that, why did you chose him? I think you just did what was politically expedient—and being married to a non-wizard who is a respected member of the Muggle community furthered your chances for Minister by making you look more liberal than Greengrass.”

“I won’t pretend that marrying your father didn’t help me politically, but I do care about him. He is very attractive to me, both physically and mentally. He’s one of the best barristers I’ve ever met. But if a side benefit of marrying him is promoting my own career, then what of it?” She looks at me smugly.

“I want to know what potion or spell you used on him to make it all happen so quickly.”

She looks at me angrily. “Hannah, we are being honest, but I won’t take you questioning my character as a witch. Your father was lonely too. We both were. There is nothing wrong with us finding each other. You’re married. You know. Why should your father put himself in cold storage?”

I notice she didn’t answer my question. “Father can find love again. I didn’t have a problem with that,” I say quietly.

“Just with me.” She still looks angry. “Don’t you think that I made those assumptions about what you like because of how much you remind me of me? A full attorney at nineteen, intelligent, talented, career minded. You didn’t even take your husband’s name.”

“I took his name, just not professionally. I mean, Abbott is the name on the diploma, plus it honours Daddy.”

“You can’t fool me, Hannah. I’m surprised you married so young, but perhaps it’s understandable with your mother gone and you and your father being somewhat estranged. But I’ll bet you aren’t planning on having any children. You’re a career witch. Like me.”

I feel my temper rising now too. “Neville and I will have a family. We just are waiting a few years—well, more than a few. But it’s not like we don’t want a child. It’s just that there is no hurry.”

“More than a few years? How many, Hannah? Does Neville know?” She smirks at me.

“Well, I thought in our thirties, mid thirties, when we’re established in our careers . . .” I blush angrily.

“You are more like me than you imagine,” she laughs.

I’m not. I am not like her. “Zemelda, I disagree. But what I want to know is this. Now that we have all our feelings in the open, what should we do about it?”

“Feelings in the open? You have no idea how I feel about you. Don’t you want to hear? Or is it only fair for you to tell me?” That girly tone resumes in her voice.

She hates me too? This should be interesting. “Okay, how do you feel about me?”

“I was fiercely jealous of you and the relationship you have with your father. I wanted to share in that, but you wouldn’t allow me to. I want to be your parent, but you are too grown up. I’m angry that you will not allow me to be your friend. I bought you that broom as a gesture of friendship, Hannah. Yet you practically mocked me for it.” Her eyes are hard and dark.

“I don’t need a new mother. I don’t really need you for a friend. But you are my father’s wife. For his sake, I’ll try harder. That’s what the dinner invitation was all about.”

She nods, her eyes casting about the office. “Your office should be larger than this, Hannah. You have no windows.”

“It’s fine. I have to start out at the bottom. I’ll work my way up to a bigger office with windows in time,” I tell her.

“I heard from Mr. Knightly that you were responsible for landing the biggest business account this firm has had in twenty years and that you are also the attorney of record for the Malfoy family. You’re bringing a lot of Galleons into this firm already. You should be a partner.”

“I’m too young. I will make partner if and when things are right. Just because I’m friends with Nicolas Poliakoff, and he brought me the Travetti business accounts, doesn’t mean that I should make partner.”

She just smirks at me again. “I didn’t know you were friends with Nicolas. Good. He is a good contact for you. You’re already making politically astute moves.”

What does she mean? Politically astute? “I have no ambitions to hold political office, Zemelda.”

“Few of us do at nineteen,” she says dismissively then stands up. “I will see you soon at dinner then. I’m glad we had this chat. Do find a way of making things right with your father, Hannah. Good day.”

She hurries out of the office. Why do I feel like I just fought a duel, and I don’t know who won?

Wandering into a Muggle bookstore

Sat, 29 Sep 2007 18:20:05 GMT

I walk into the bookstore. It is a Muggle shop, so probably won't have what I am looking for, but father was a Squb passing as a Muggle for all those years, so what I want may be here without it being labeled as such. I walk up to the man behind the counter, who is bent down sorting books, "Excuse me, sir, but I am looking for . . ." He gets up and faces me. "Professor Lupin?"

"Hannah," he says in surprise. "How have you been doing?"

"Professor, I didn't expect to see you here. I am doing well. I passed my tests and am a practicing solicitor," I blush slightly, "I got married too."

Lupin smiles more. "That's excellent! How long? One of my former students?”

"Thank you, Professor. Neville and I were married on September 8--it was just a quiet ceremony since we didn't want my step-mother to know about it. We didn't want her kind of Ministry Celebration."

I look at him closely. He seems healthier than last I saw. "How are you professor?"

"I am doing very well, Enjoying my job here, and Dora and I have just bought a new couch."

Dora? Who is Dora? I stall while I try to remember. "A new couch? That's nice. Neville and I are thinking of moving out of our flat and back to the Manor--I'll want to replace some of the things." I still can't remember. "Who is Dora?"

"Oh!" Remus smiles knowingly. "You would know her as Tonks, perhaps - she is an Auror? You might have met her... she was at the battle at Hogwarts," Remus adds with a slightly tense edge.

Why would he be tense? Because they are living together? Evidently he doesn’t know that Neville and I did the same thing. "Oh, Auror Tonks. I did meet her. She and Charlie Weasley came to see me about my step-mother. She's your girlfriend?" I never pictured Professor Lupin with a girlfriend at all, much less one so different from how conservative he is. "I liked her very much. Not who I expected to see you with, although you probably didn't guess that Neville and I would end up together. Or maybe you did?"

"I always noticed you were friendly to him, but I never thought you would date," Remus says. "On record, I have only been right about one couple. And stop calling me Professor. I haven’t been your professor in a long time. "

"Ron and Hermione?" I ask, laughing.

"How did you ever guess? " Remus asks with a wink. "Yes, I always thought perhaps. They were quite close, but in a different sort of way than, say, Harry. But you didn't come here to discuss the old times - can I help you with something?"

"Well, I was looking for more on Squibs. I know this is a Muggle bookstore, but since many Squibs live as Muggles, I thought there might be something here--only worded a little differently so as not to give it away. I wanted to read it from a squib's point of view," I try to explain, blushing enough that I'm sure I will have to tell him about Daddy.

Remus didn't ask about the blush, looking thoughtful instead. "Hm. Well, there is a book called The Theory of Magic, which explores the idea that there really is magic, and many have speculated that it was written by a Muggleborn, a Squib, or a Muggle who figured it out. But my boss might actually be able to help you as well..."

"Your boss?" I ask.

"Yes - he is a squib," Remus explains. "He would be happy to discuss it with you - he's out today, but if you would like, I can give you his name and Floo Address."

"Professor Lupin," I ask thoughtfully, "Do you know many squibs? I mean besides your boss and Filch?"

“Remus, remember?” he smiles. "Not really," I reply. "I do know of an Arabella Figg - she is a Squib, lives in Surrey. Why do you ask?"

"Will you promise not to tell? This squib is really ashamed and doesn't want people to know." I tell him hesitantly.

"I promise," Remus replies. "I can understand - not wanting people to know."

"My step-mother even thinks Dad is a Muggle, but I recently found out he's not. He's a second generation squib: Both his parents were squibs too. He's been playing in the Muggle world his whole life. But he married a witch, my mum, and gave birth to a witch, me. He's so smart, Prof—Lupin--Remus. Why was he ashamed?" I ask.

"It is probably not shame as much as the shame of others," Remus explains. "He might have worried you or your stepmother would be ashamed of him. I know it's hard, but sometimes that is how a person thinks."

"I couldn't be ashamed of Daddy. I've only even been angry with him because of Zemelda. It's really odd though trying to give myself a label now too, you know? I can't really call myself a half-blood anymore." I try to smile.

"Well, you don't need a label," Remus assures me. "You are - who you are."

"Thanks, Profes . . . Mr. Lup . . . erm Remus. I'll make an appointment to talk with your boss and look up those books too. Do you think you could come over and visit Neville and me some time? Bring Dora too?" I ask.

"Of course," Remus says. "My pleasure - and I will return the offer."

"Thank you. Good day, Remus." I head out the door.

Friday morning

Sat, 22 Sep 2007 03:17:50 GMT

I look at my agenda for today . . . Draco Malfoy is coming in at 11 on a matter of business. Thanks to Katie Bell, I have a bit of business to spring on him as well. I just hope Merlin gives me strength to use the right amount of tact and authority to make this work.

At 11am sharp there is a knock upon my door and Draco is shown in. He nods courteously at me and offers me a half smile. "Good morning, Miss Abbott," he says, taking the chair in front of my desk. He appears to be in a good mood; I wonder how long that will last.

"Good day, Mr. Malfoy. I have a piece of business to share with you as well this morning. Would you like to share your business first?" I ask. May as well get this over with.

He cocks his eyebrow at me. "I am quite interested to find out what business you have for me. Does it have something to do with the Parkinsons?"

"No. I wish it were as simple as that. No, this has something to do with a lot of Galleons and a bit of pride if you settle out of court, and even more Galleons and some bad publicity if you let it go to trial." I intertwine my fingers and look at him closely. "Our firm has been contacted by someone who wishes for an apology and a settlement, but will take you to court if you are not willing to do this."

His eyebrows go up even further and disappear into his hair. "OK, well, that narrows it down quite a bit," he says a bit sarcastically. "Who is it that is suing me, or is that privileged information?"

"Katie Bell wants a full apology, and restitution for time lost from school, plus pain and suffering, to be paid to St. Mungo's in her name. It will cost you 25,000 Galleons to settle and a little pride." I watch his eyes grow rounder. "If it goes to court, it is likely a jury will award her at least four times that amount."

Home from the Honeymoon

Mon, 17 Sep 2007 19:16:57 GMT

This last week was amazing. And now I get to start my first week as a full solicitor. I hurriedly walk to Knightly and Poppington, wanting to enjoy the walk rather than Apparate.

I open the door of the law offices and Mr. Poppington and the secretary greet me. "Welcome back, Mrs. Longbottom!" I get a funny feelin,g, that must show on my face because of what they say next. "AH, is it Abbott-Longbottom then? or is it still Miss Abbott?"

I think of that certificate that announces I'm a full solicitor. Hannah Abbott. I make the decision quickly, hoping Neville will forgive me. "Ms. Abbott professionally, please."

They grin. "Ms. Abbott it is. Saves me having to change the name on your door--well, I still have to change part of it" Poppington says, waving his wand and changing the title below the name plate from law clerk to solicitor. "Now you just have to figure out how to become a junior partner, Abbott. Frankly, with Knightly semi-retired already, you should start preparing for it. And with that Travetti account you landed, you should make partner sooner than most."

"Thank you, Mr. Poppington." I feel my cheeks grow warm. It is that account and the gold it brings into the firm that even has him considering the idea, I'm sure. Well, maybe part of it is because of who my father and step-mother are. What I doubt is that any of this suggestion is because of my own merits. "I'd better get to work." I hurry into my office and close the door softly, pouring myself a cup of tea while I go through the documents needed before my first client of the day comes in

Great news, Greater news, and the Greatest event

Sat, 08 Sep 2007 16:40:10 GMT

I started testing on Monday--I had three days of intense testing, then I had to wait through Thursday to see if I passed. Mr. Poppington wouldn't even let me back into the office after I finished my tests. He sent me home and told me to do something to de-stress.

Okay, I went flying on that broom Nicolas made me, but it didn't work to ease my nerves. My magic was a little wonky too, with all the waiting. At dinner , Neville finally shooed me out of the kitchen and told me to take a bubble bath or something while he made dinner, since I broke three dishes with my magic and tied the curtains in the kitchen up in knots. Rather like the knots in my stomach.

Thursday night an owl came for me. I passed! I even had high marks. I'm a solicitor! A real attorney!

Luna visits again.

Mon, 03 Sep 2007 21:05:21 GMT

Luna is escorted into my office by the secretary. "Hello Miss Lovegood. I have your paperwork completed. Your patent should be approved within three months."

She takes the paperwork from me and looks down at it. "Oh my," she says. "Three months seems like a very long time. I suppose it would be unwise to sell the chocolate until the patent is approved."

"Not at all. Some patents take a year or more. You can start selling the chocolate now. All you have to do is mark your labels 'patent pending.'" I explain.

The relief on her face when I tell her this is evident. "Oh, that is very good! I would have no money, otherwise."

"You might want to consider marketing it under more than one label." I suggest, thinking about all the PDA in Hogwarts I heard her chocolate caused.

Luna furrows her brow and leans forward to set a small jar on the desk in front of me. "Market it under more than one label?" she asks.

"Yes, maybe something that might reflect on its side effects more. For married couples trying to put a little more" I blush, " zing in their relationships and things like that."

She looks possitively perplexed. "There are side effects?" she says, then her eyes widen. "Oh! You mean if they are studying sex when they eat it. Yes, there should be a warning on the label."

I am trying really hard not to smile. "Have you tested it to see if it has the same sexual side effects when studying other subjects?" I ask timidly.

"Well," she says, going a little pink. "I have tried, but I am always thinking about sex, you know."

I feel my own face heating up again. "Maybe you should test it on some other subjects...say ones deliberately studying maths or astronomy. It might just be a side effect that has nothing to do with what you are studying," I suggest

She chews on her bottom lip and looks down at the parchment in her hands. "Will it effect the patent if that is a common side effect?"

"I think it will make it even more marketable, Miss Lovegood. The patent may even be approved faster. You might even market it for that purpose, not just as a side effect," I explain.

Her eyebrows go up. "Oh, but if I market it as studying sex chocolate, then it will defeat the purpose for which I made it." She sighs and fingers one cork. "I suppose if people want to study sex, though, it is the best way to do it. You can become extremely knowledgeable about sex with it. Colin and I certainly did, and knowledge about sex is very important, you know."

I can't help but laugh now. "Yes, Miss Lovegood, it is." Neville is never going to believe this conversation. Of course I can't really tell him. Not unless Luna tells me I may . . .

"Well, I have brought you some of the chocolate, so you may try it out yourself, if you would like."

"Erm," Okay, I'm dropping out of solicitor mode, "Luna, when you were taking the chocolate, did you think of anyone but Colin, or just Colin?"

"Oh, of Colin, of course," she says. "I would never think of sex with anybody else."

"So it doesn't take away your will, just enhances it?"

"Well, I am not sure what exactly it does to my will. I suppose I loved Colin back then as well. We got rather snuggly, you see."

"I just don't wan"t to try it here in the office and suddenly find myself attracted to Mr. Poppington, Luna." I explain.

"I suppose one could say that you need to be attracted to the other person. It just enhances the feeling. I was only attracted to Colin, and there were a great many people in the library, you know."

I sigh with relief. "Good. I think the product is safe then. And Neville and I will have fun studying with it." I take the jar and hand Luna her papers. "Thank you."

Luna goes to get up. "Luna, may I tell Neville about our meeting? I mean, since I'll be sharing the chocolate with him?"

"Yes, I trust Neville." She looks at me and smiles. I suddenly get the feeling she's picturing exactly what Neville and I will be doing with that chocolate and my face grows warmer still. "Goodbye, Hannah."

"Goodbye, Luna." I press the door closed and breathe a sigh of relief.

Now to take my tests. I hurry to Mr. Poppington's office.

A Business Meeting with Luna Lovegood

Thu, 30 Aug 2007 07:18:44 GMT

Backdated to Saturday

This should be interesting. Luna Lovegood is meeting me to discuss a business proposition. I can hardly wait. I make sure I have fresh coffee and tea in my office and double check in the mirror to make sure I look professional and neat. I hear a knock on my door. "Miss Lovegood is here to see you, Miss Abbott."

"Show her in, please."

Luna appears in the doorway in bright blue robes and the cork necklace around her neck as always. She looks around the room and then at me. "Hello Hannah. Oh, I'm sorry. Hello, Miss Abbott."

"You may call me whatever makes you feel comfortable, Miss Lovegood." I grin at her. "And after we're finished, I'll even call you Luna. Would you like something to drink?" I add, gesturing to the tea and coffee service.

"Have you carrot juice?" she asks. "It tastes lovely with a celery stalk and a small bit of pepper."

"I'm sorry. Just coffee and tea." I should have known better.

"Tea is nice," she says in a dreamy voice and tilts her head to the side.

I gesture again to the tea service. "Help yourself." I keep the service as a courtesy to my clients, but Poppington reminded me that I am the attorney and I should let my clients wait on themselves.

Luna steps up to the service and sets about fixing her tea. "Shall I fix you a cup?" she asks and reaches for a second cup.

I have to love Luna. "Thank you. Just black for me."

"Do you know," she says, pouring a second glass and putting a wedge of lemon on the saucer. "Tea is not truely black. It is just very, very dark brown. If you put white in it, it turns to a light brown, instead of to a grey. It is the same with coffee." She hands me the second cup and smiles.

"Very true." I sip on the tea she hands me. "So tell me what brings you here. You mentioned a business proposition."

She sips her tea and sets it in her lap. I see that he has a leather journal under her arm. "Well, you see, I invent," she states.

"So you are interested in getting patents on your product?" I ask.

Her eyes widen. "Yes, that is exactly it! I was told a lawyer could help me obtain a patent if I do not wish to go through a patent house."

"I can help you. What is the product? What is it's history, development, why is it unique, what market is it targeted for . . . you have paperwork, right?"

"Paperwork?" she asks. "What sort of paperwork do you mean? I was not aware of forms to fill or any such thing."

"Before we can get the patent approved, we will need to prove the idea is yours. You must have taken notes while you researched and tested and developed your product, right?"

"Oh! Yes, I have," she says and holds up the journal. "I have dated all the pages, you see, and made extensive notes of all my trials." She sets the cup of tea aside and stands to show me several pages packed tight with notes, complete with little diagrams here and there. "Did you receive the jar I sent you?"

"Jar?" I received nothing but her letter. "I am glad you have your notes, but no, I didn't receive a jar."

She frowns. "Oh my. Perhaps Herbert ate it. Well, I can bring you a jar later by hand, so that he does not do so again. It is studying chocolate. It is meant to bring out the full potential of your brain. There is a difficulty if you are studying sex, however."

I supress a snicker and do my best to maintain my professional demeanor. I nod solemnly. "You'll need a copy of all your research, each of your steps, all your notes. What do you think you'll market it as?" I ask.

"Well," Luna says, tilting her head and looking off into the distance. "I have named it Purely Educational. It is meant to be a studying snack and I will market it as such. I came across one of Fred and George Weasley while I was on holiday and they are offering to sell and distribute it for me."

Purely explorational might be a better name for it if the rumours I've heard about it are true. A whole lot of PDA was exploding all over Hogwarts after Luna started sharing her chocolate sauce. "Is this the only product?"

She shakes her head. "No. Well...at present, it is the only invention actively in production or even in developement. There is an idea I had about using memories and literature. Are you familiar with audio books?"

"My father has a few," I answer.

"Well you see," she says, setting the journal down and gesturing with her hands. "The author or narrator will be in a room that is perhaps decorated like a scene in the story. Then they will read a chapter aloud. They will read each chapter seperately. Then they will extract copies of the memories of them reading each chapter and then these memories of the chapters will be woven together to make a ribbon. If you have no time to read a book, but would really like to, you simply set the ribbon on your forehead when you sleep and dream the book!"

"Does it work? Is it ready to market?" I ask. This could be really interesting... on the other hand, if it helps studying the way her chocolate does . . .

"It is only an idea right now," she said, her shoulders drooping a little. "I know it is not wise to reproduce another person's creation without their consent, and so I will need to contact the authors beforehand. Then I will need to arrange with them who will be narrating. Might that be something you can help with as well?"

"Yes, I can certainly help with that." I look at her thoughtfully. "Back to the chocolate. I heard you had more than one form. Would you need patents for each?"

She furrows her brow. "More than one form?" she says. "I certainly only made the studying chocolate as a spread. It is the only way it would settle, you see. I did make a special sex truffle for some friends who needed to make up and that worked very well, but I am not sure if that will be something I should sell. Would you still recommend a patent for that?"

I smile. "Yes, I would recommend you patent that." That probably will be her biggest gold income.

Luna frowns and opens her journal again. "I am sure I have all the notes here as well. Would you like the copies now or would you prefer that I bring them to you later?"

"The copies now would be best. THe faster I can help you the better for getting the patent out."

"Alright, if it is best, I will do it now. Might you have some spare parchment about you?"

I hand her a yellow lined parchment roll. "Legal parchment," I explain.

"Thank you very much," she says and examines the roll. Then she unrolls it and opens her journal to a bundle of loose parchment clipped together. I watch as one by one, she scans down the notes with the broad side of her wand, then does the same on the legal parchment. An exact copy is transfered, complete with diagrams and strange little doodles that look like obscure runes.

It takes a while, but finally she's handing me two long scrolls, each labled accordingly to the product. "I will bring the studying chocolate by soon and you may try it for yourself."

I try to keep a straight face. If the stories are true, my trial with her chocolate will be interesting, but I clear my voice and nod. "I look forward to it. In the meantime, I'll draw up the contract and patent applications."

"That sounds lovely," Luna says, collecting up her notes and clipping them together again. "I shall look forward to your pigeon, then."

I hold out my hand. "Thank you for choosing me to represent your patent case."

She takes my hand and shakes it firmly, almost painfully. "Thank you for taking my patent case." Then she quickly finishes her tea, collects her journal, and turns for the door.

As I watch her leave, I consider how interesting this case will be. Business with Luna Lovegood.

breaking the news to daddy

Tue, 21 Aug 2007 02:47:50 GMT

Daddy needs to know. I still am hardly ever seeing him though. Not with all the stuff he has to do with the new Minister of Magic. I suppose I shall have to owl him.

Dear Dad,

How are you? I haven’t seen you in awhile. I had a little problem the other day, and I thought you’d need to know. Three escaped Death Eaters were in our flat. They didn’t hurt me or anything else. They just really scared me. I was a blubbering idiot after they left. They are after Neville and the others who fought them when they were captured at the Ministry. The Minister needs to protect these people, Dad. They were all heroes.

The one Death Eater, Lucius Malfoy, told me that you are a squib. That your mum and dad were squibs too . . . but that you’re a pure blood. Is this true, Daddy? If it is, how come you never told me? He says the graveyard at Godric’s Hollow is full of Abbotts I think we should talk about this, Dad. Were you ashamed to come from squibs? Was it easier to just tell everyone your parents were Muggles? Is that why you were attracted to Mum and didn’t mind that she was a witch?

Let me know when we can talk. I miss you. Let Zemelda know about my visitors, okay?

Love,

Hannah

P.S. I’m taking my law tests early, in September. Mr. Knightly and Poppington seem to think I’m ready.

There, that should do it. I put my quill down for a minute and rest my head before I send the note with the company owl. Now if I can just relax my mind enough to get back to studying.

--------------------------------

Darling Daughter,

You're right that we need to talk. I'll be there in thirty minutes. Be careful. I love you.

Dad

I try to concentrate on studying while I wait for him, but my thoughts are all jumbled. A few minutes later, a secretary knocks and opens the door. "Your father, Mr. Abbott is here."

"Thank you. Send him in please." My dad comes in, a worried line marking a punctuation mark above his eyebrows. "Hi Daddy." I stand up.

"Hannah," he nods. "Apparently we have a lot to talk about. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Daddy. I was just scared. It left me feeling so, violated . . . they were in our home. Nothing was safe. I was really frightened and angry. Mostly I'm worried about Neville and my other friends who helped him. Daddy, you know that Zemelda and I don't especially get along, but if she meant half of what she said that got her elected to Minister, then she needs to know. She needs to stop them."

"I will let her know. She's still at the office,” Dad says reassuringly.

I reach across to him and take his hand. "Thank you, Daddy. About that other stuff? Are you really a squib?"

He sighs. "Yes. I am. I never wanted you to find out the truth."

My voice softens at the hurt I hear in his voice. "But why not? I wouldn't love you less. It explains so much about why you chose Mum and why you had no problem with me being a witch. My other half blood friend’s Muggle parents didn't understand like you did. Now I know why."

"Hannah, I felt it would be best for you and our family. Better to be seen as a Muggle, not a Squib of Squib parents."

"Daddy, it changes my past. I thought I was barely a half-blood, practically a Muggleborn, since Mum was a Muggleborn and you were a Muggle. But now I find out you're a pureblood. Non-magical, but of old pureblood magical stock. All this blood stuff has never mattered to me, except that I suddenly find myself reinterpreted. I don't know what label I fit." I sigh. "Does this make any sense? It just would have been easier if you had told me."

"You're a talented witch, that hasn't changed," he answers.

He's not getting this. Maybe I'm not getting this. I don't know. "Does Zemelda know about you not really being a Muggle? What if she finds out? Why are you ashamed of it, Dad?"

"Two old wizarding families who had two generations of squibs. That is not something to be proud of."

"You're the finest barrister in London, Dad. You always told me I got my brains from you and my talent from Mum. Now I find out that you don't value what your gifts are after all . . . is that why you married Mum, Dad? To make sure that there wouldn't be a third generation Squib?" I ask with a touch of anger creeping into my tone. "Did Mum know you were a Squib?" I ask. I believe he loved Mum, but maybe he only chose from witches...maybe he really did want to make sure I would be born a witch.

“She knew,” he answers simply.

“Mum knew? But she never told me either. Dad, I’m not ashamed of you. The only thing you’ve ever done that I was angry about was marry Zemelda!” I clap my hand against my mouth. “Dad, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

"I love Zemelda," he remarks, voice becoming cold. "She might not be your mother, but you could attempt to be at least civil to her."

"I am sorry, Daddy. I do try to be civil to her. It just happened so fast with you two, and you didn't seem like you when you were around her, and she always manages to say the wrong things to me. I'll keep trying. I am sorry." My eyes puddle over--this isn't what was supposed to happen. I just wanted to talk about the attack and the Squib thing . . . not get into a fight over Zemelda.

"You said that before, and yet you never visit or have any contact."

"I just want to spend time with you. When she's around I feel awkward, and she says things that make me angry. Like the things she said to Megan about buying me a broom. She doesn't even try to get to know me. Can't I just have time with you?" I ask, one of my eyes spilling over.

"Yes, but Zemelda is my wife. She is trying, Hannah," he gives me a pointed look.

He hands me a tissue. "I will keep trying, Daddy. For YOUR sake. But please promise we can have some time for just us . . . once or twice a month . . . please? I miss you. I just can't talk to you like we used to when she is there." I wipe my eyes carefully.

"Alright, but I would like you to try with Zemelda again. Especially since she is Minister now. She's busy, but I know she'd like to get to know you better."

"That's a fair trade. If you can promise me just us time once or twice a month, I'll try again with Zemelda. I'll even bring Neville if you want."

"I suppose I should get to know this young man if you plan on continuing to live with him."

“We had him over for dinner once, Daddy. And he wrote you a letter, I understand. But yes, you do need to get to know him better. He’s part of my family now, so part of yours too.”

"Well, decide on a time and perhaps we can all have dinner again,” he offers.

I nod. "I love you, Daddy. You will remember to tell Zemelda about the Death Eaters? That the ministry six are in danger?" I remind him.

"I won't forget," he answers. "It could help if you contacted her."

I shake my head. “No, I would rather you tell her. I’m sorry, Dad.” I give his hand a squeeze and will him to understand.

"Alright, but it would mean more coming from you," he answers.

"Soon, Dad. Give me time, please?" I squeeze his hand, four little squeezes--our old code for 'do you love me?' Now to see if he'll answer.

He gives me a small smile and squeezes my hand back five times, which is 'I love you very much'.

I grin dopily and get up from my chair, throwing my arms around his neck. "I love you very much too, Daddy."

He hugs me back and kisses the top of my head, like he did when I was younger.

"I'll see you soon, Dad. I promise." I want to tell him I'm engaged, but I just can't risk Zemelda knowing.

"Of course. And really, Hannah, come over soon, alright? Besides, I'm sure Zemelda would like to meet your friend as well."

"Daddy, you know we're more than friends, right? I love Neville."

This seems to have caught him a bit off guard. "I knew you were more...I didn't know it was to love though."

"But you liked him, Dad. A lot? I mean, you were really nice to him, even with him nervous . . . "

"He seems to be a very nice young man."

"He's more than nice, Dad. He's good and brave and smart . . . he's the best wizard I know, Daddy. I'm so lucky that he loves me."

"I'm happy for you," he smiles. "But since you love him, I do want to get to know him better."

"We'll have you over for dinner after I finish my tests then, okay? Oh, and did I tell you that I'm taking my tests early? The first week of September?" I ask.

"I read that in your letter. I'm proud of you, Hannah."

I blush slightly. "I forgot I already told you. Some attorney I'll make." I kiss his cheek. "Owl me when you want to have our next Dad daughter date and Neville and I will start getting ready to have you and Zemelda over for dinner, okay?"

"I will. I hope it's soon, Hannah."

"It will be. Thanks Dad." I kiss him goodbye and he stands up to leave.

"Have a good afternoon, Miss Abbott," he responds, but in a good natured way.

"And a good day to you, Mr. Abbott." The receptionist rolls her eyes as I escort Dad out the door. He gives me a small smile as he disappears out the door. I head back to my office and shut the door quietly, ready to resume my studying . . . I just wish I could tell Daddy I’m engaged.

An unforeseen meeting

Sun, 19 Aug 2007 22:21:34 GMT

The wedding yesterday was beautiful. I spent today in the office. Even though it was closed, it was a great time to just study quietly for my tests. I got a lot done.

I cannot wait to get home and see Neville. I know I see him every day, but the hours away from him at work just make seeing him again sweeter. I stop and buy some French bread and some wine to go with the pasta I've planned on baking and, arms full, open the door of the flat.

Law business . . .

Wed, 01 Aug 2007 23:26:55 GMT

I got here early to set up the meeting with Hermione. Mr. Knightly called me into his office. I wonder if he found out about my engagement. I’ve only told my closest friends.

“Miss Abbott, We have been evaluating your progress and we believe you will be ready to take your tests next month instead of waiting for December. We have submitted your name for the group of tests to be given on September 3-6.”

I feel the blood draining from my face. “Thank you, Mr. Knightly. I’ll try to live up to your faith in me.” I leave his office, a little shaken.

Hermione should be here any minute. I wonder what her business is? Well, it should be anticlimactic after getting engaged Monday and finding out my test is moved up by three months today.

Before long I hear a knock on my door and Hermione is shown into my office. She closes the door, sits in the chair in front of my desk and gives me a smile. "Thank you so much for agreeing to see me, Hannah. By the way, I am very happy for the news about you and Neville. That is wonderful news.”

I smile. “Thank you, Miss Granger.” I’m using my best professional tone, but I can’t keep the twinkle out of my eye. It feels awkward to call Hermione by her surname. “How may I help you today?”

"I would like to make out a will," Hermione says without preamble. "I had planned on waiting until Ron and I got married later this month, but -" Here she pauses, "I found out a couple of weeks ago that Ron and I are going to have a baby. Because of times being the way they are, I decided that I would get it taken care of as soon as I could."

I have to fight to keep my eyebrows from disappearing into my hairline. Hermione’s pregnant? Before marriage? Didn’t McGonagall teach the Gryffindor girls the same spell that Sprout taught us? I keep outwardly unmoved. “Certainly.” I pull out my legal parchment and put it in front of us. “Okay, what are your assets, what are you belongings, what will you leave to whom, what about custody, et cetera.” I raise my quill, enchanted to take dictation quickly.

"Well, I will be leaving the money in my vault in trust to our child. Should I die before the child is born, the money of course will go to Ron. My books, which are some of my most prized possessions, I want to donate to Hogwarts. My jewelry I am quite certain Ron would want to keep that, since most of it he gave to me." She looks at me. "I know that you must be surprised that I am pregnant before marriage. Don't worry; I expect that type of reaction. I do know the spells, and so does Ron. But one day I didn't care about spells. I can't be certain, but I think it has something to do with the fact that I am an Animagus."

"As for custody of our child, Ron and I will be in to make a joint will for the two of us after we are married. This is simply for my assets, because I know that Ron would want the money to go to our child."

“I didn’t know you were an Animagus.” If that messed up her control—and led to her pregnancy, then McGonagall . . . oh my hell! I do my best to keep from laughing at the thought. I will get these in legal order. Anything else? The Cottage? Intellectual property?” I ask.

"Ron doesn't know this yet, but Harry is giving us the cottage as a wedding present, so we'll take care of that in our combined will. No intellectual property as of yet, but I may have to update my will once I decide on my area of expertise as an Unspeakable." She looks serious for a moment. "We haven't told anyone about the baby yet, for obvious reasons. We don't want the wrong people finding out. It's not so much that we don't think our families will be happy for us but with all the Death Eaters being about and who Ron and I are..." She trails off, and I know what she means.

“I understand. I am in love with one of the Ministry six. I think you six are in even more danger from the escaped Death Eaters than the rest of us. And as far as not wanting people to know, can you do me a favour? Do not tell anyone that Neville and I are engaged. We would rather my step-mother not find out until well after the fact. I know she would turn it into a Ministry circus.” I smile sadly. I just wish it didn’t mean not telling Daddy.

“I can have this will ready for your signature in a half an hour if you’d care to wait. I have coffee, tea, biscuits . . . even chamomile tea if you would rather not have the caffeine.”

"Of course I will keep your secret," she says with a smile. "And I'll wait...I have a lunch date at the Leaky Cauldron but some chamomile tea would be nice, thank you. I know that it has a calming affect on the stomach."

I put a cup of chamomile tea and a plate of nutritive biscuits in front of her, then get busy making the will into its final form. I write it in triplicate, one for the ministry, one for our office, one for her. I run them past Knightly and he smiles and nods in approval. Twenty-five minutes later I hand the papers to Hermione for her final perusal and signature.

She puts down her cup and looks over the will. After she is satisfied, she signs the bottom. "Thank you so much for doing this. How much is your fee?"

"Our secretary will bill you. I believe a standard will is thirty five galleons, but you don't pay me. I receive a monthly salary. That should change a bit soon though," I grin.

"Okay, thank you." She stands up and extends her hand over my desk. "I certainly hope that we'll be seeing you on the 18th at Hogwarts? It wouldn't be the same without you and Neville there."

"We wouldn't dream of missing it. We'll be there, Hermione," I say, dropping the Miss Granger for the first time.

"Have a wonderful day." With one last smile, Hermione leaves my office, a copy of her will in hand.

"Good day, Miss Granger." I watch her leave and go to file the other copies here in the law firm and with the Ministry. Nothing can dampen my good mood.

Ernie finally came over to tend to Caley

Thu, 19 Jul 2007 23:24:42 GMT

I've been keeping Caley's arm chilled to keep down the swelling and I put a splint on it. I'm just surprised Ernie hasn't come yet. It's been five hours.
I finally hear a crack of Apparition outside the flat and a knock on the door.
"Who is the hero of our house?" I ask through the door.

"Helga and Cedric, Hannah, let me in please," he says.

I open the door. "Come in. What took you so long?"

“There was a battle in Diagon Alley. There was six dead and over dozen injured. I didn’t get to the area where I could answer Trevor till just ten minutes ago. Where is our ‘Puff sister that wears red and gold? Jones’ are supposed to wear the noble black and yellow,” he says with a grin.

"She's in on the sofa, eating chocolate." I say, leading him into the living room.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t get here earlier Caley, but trust Hannah to start the first aid properly. Honeyduke’s Finest isn’t it? Why don’t you come into the dining area and I’ll have you fixed up in half a mo.

“I’ll show you a new bit of magic during the exam that you might find interesting.”

I help Caley up and we go into the dining room with Ernie. I see him looking at the splint and touch her arm. “The quick application of the splint and ice saved her a lot of discomfort, Hannah,” he tells me. “Place your arm as flat as you can on the table please, Caley.”

Caley does as she's told. I hold her other hand, reassuring her, but true Gyff that she is, she doesn't even look afraid. I think I'm reassuring me more than her. "I'm glad it helped."

“Well since I’m a bit late, I won’t show you how to check for a broken or sprain manually without a wand, I’ll just get to healing, unless you want to learn,” he says.

She shakes her head no and looks at Ernie impatiently.

“Sonitus-adludo-maginor’ he incants, and an image of the bones appear above the arm.

“You are lucky, Caley. The breaks are there, but the bones are still in alignment. All I have to do is heal them not set and heal them,” he says. A few muttered healing spells later, he asks, “How does your arm feel now?”

"All better, thanks," she says, a worried look crossing her face. I give her a hug and whisper in her ear, "Megan's fine. You've got to trust that."

“Hannah,” he says, “could you show Miss Caley to where she’s sleeping?

“Caley I have a sleeping draught with a painkiller to help you sleep. The bone is healed, but the muscles are strained,” he says.

I take the draught for Caley and show her the guest room. I stand there and watch while she drinks it, then help her into bed. I return to the dining room. "I take it you want to talk? How about I make something for us to drink?"

"Yes please on both. What happened to Megan? Is she alright? Was she wounded in the attack in

"No." I say. "Coffee or tea or something cold? We have butterbeer." I wait for him to answer.

"Tea please, with two lumps" he says.

I heat up the water and put the tea things on the table, along with a plate of ginger newts. "There is a group that was trying to get her to run something in the Prophet. She wouldn't cooperate with them, and it got a little messy. She brought Caley here and she took off. She's waiting until after the election is over and the hubbub dies down to come back. I seemed like the safest choice to take care of Caley since this group is trying to get my step-mother elected." I sigh.

“What group is this? Nouveau Death Eaters, or pure blood supremacists d’jour?” he asks.

"I don't know. Megan hasn't told me much. I don't think she knows much--but they have something to do with the Weasleys disappearing I think. Charlie and an Auror came and talked to me, so I assume it's all related."

“You know, I just wish that we could have had a bit of peace with out earth shaking politics. We have had enough of them during our lifetime.” He said.

"Well, this world is nothing if not changing. I just wish the magical world weren't so dead set on the frightening kind of change. So tell me about what happened in Diagon Alley." I ask.

“Bloody Death Eaters, including Lucius-bloody-Malfoy and Belatrix Lestrange decided to have a bit of ‘sport’ dueling with half of the population of Diagon and Knocturn Alleys we are lucky that they are only 3 dead and a dozen wounded. If I couldn’t already see them, I’d see thestrals twice over because of today,” he said sadly.

"I'm sorry. I thought this was supposed to be over. How does Draco live with family like his?" I ask, thinking about the last time he was in my office.

“I have no idea, he says, All I know is that he was born a bloody ponce and more than likely he is going to die that way.”

"I worked with him, you know. I think he meant what he said about trying to change," I say timidly.

“I hope you are right Hannah, but I’m going to have to see it to believe it.” He says

I nod. I think of the free passes he gave Neville and me to go to his club--Neville a blood traitor and me--less than halfblood, barely more than Muggleborn--he must be changing. But he doesn't want anyone to know he owns the club, so I don't tell Ernie why I believe Draco, or at least want to believe him. "So, er, did you tell Susan yet?"

“I wonder if he is just trying to be a good businessman. I hope he does change, for the sake of society. I don’t want another generation of Malicious Malfoys.

“As for Susan, I’m a coward. I have had to cancel my piano lesson twice because of work. I’ve even gone to the Diagon Alley to try to walk in and talk to her, but I just can’t find the courage.” He says.

"Do I need to pull you in there by the hand? Or maybe I should just tell her for you?" I tease him.

“Not yet, he says shyly. I may take you up on that in a couple of more weeks.”

"Good grief, Ernie. Susan needs to know. If she's not interested, then at least you know. But why keep yourself in limbo? Also, I doubt very much you'll find her completely uninterested." I pat his hand encouragingly.

“You want to know something silly?” he asks.

"What?" I reply, popping a ginger newt into my mouth.

“I’ve faced death straight in the eye on behalf of my patient and I hardly ever blinked. But the prospect of actually telling her how I think I feel brings on the fight or flight instinct and I choose the latter,” he says.

"Well, if you want me to watch your back and make sure you don't chicken out and run away, I will." I wink at him.

"As you always have." he says.

"Want more tea? Maybe some tiger slippers of your own to make you brave?"

“I always picture myself much more of a grizzly bear. Just a half of a cup, I need to be going home, perhaps to write a letter,” he says.

“Okay, thanks for your help Ernie. You know where to find me when you need me. We've been friends for too long--don't worry about bothering me, just come or tell me where to be and when."

“Always Hannah, please do the same. I’m just hearing the siren call of my bed. Even though his visit was a house call, you don’t know how much I’ve missed being with my friends over the last few months. Please give Neville my best when he comes home,” he says.

"I will. See you soon." I show him to the door.

That's What Puff Girls are For

Sun, 15 Jul 2007 04:56:39 GMT

I hear an owl tapping on the window and look at the clock. 2 AM. Neville sits up with a start. "It's okay, Neville. I'll see." I open the window and check the owl's note. Megan. She's in trouble. "Neville, Megan needs me. I'll bring her here for breakfast later if she'll come." I kiss him on the cheek and throw my clothes on. Moments later I step out of Megan's floo.

Megan looks up when she sees me then gets to her feet. "Hannah..." her eyes are red. "I'm sorry, I know it's late."

I look at her red swollen eyes and the stack of used tissues and fold her into a big Hufflepuff sister hug. "I'm here. Tell me what's the matter."

She hugs me back tightly. "It's Wayne," she answers when she steps back, voice barely a whisper.

"Is he hurt? Was there another accident at the reserve?" I ask hurriedly.

She hesitates then manages a small laugh. "I'm going to sound like a 4th year again." Then all teasing is gone. "He broke up with me."

"Oh Merlin, I'm so sorry. He hasn't been around much, has he?" Okay, truthfully, I've seen this coming, but how could I tell her that?

"He said it was an act. That it wasn't him." She hesitates and looks down to a bracelet she's wearing. "And I think it was because of Charlie too."

"You mean because he's been acting like a lot more than your big brother for a long time? Wayne got jealous?" I think of that first bit. "He was pretending to be your boyfriend, but he wasn't? How did he explain that?"

"Because he says Charlie's in love with me," she answers. "And he wasn't pretending to be my boyfriend. But he said he wasn't the sweet, romantic wizard he was acted like on our date."

"So he's saying you didn't know him and he was just pretending to be the kind of guy he though you wanted. And in the meanwhile, he can see Charlie as his rival, so he just ended it." Wayne sounds like a coward to me, but I won't tell Megan that.

She sighs and goes back to the sofa, sitting down, running her hands over her face, elbows on her knees. "I think he might be right, Hannah."

"Right about Charlie? Right about him pretending to be someone else to please you? Right about what?"

"Maybe both. But I think Charlie. George said the same thing to me," she murmurs.

"How do you feel about him? I mean, if all this is true," and I think it is based on what I've seen myself, "are you going to stop being his friend?"

"He's been my brother for so long," she points out then wipes at her eyes with the back of her hand. "It hurts worse than fourth year," she whispers.

"If you don't tell him, he'll go right on being your brother--even if all this stuff is right about him. Is that what you want?"

"I don't even know what I want now!" she exclaims then looks back up at me. "Hannah, what should I do?"

"Give yourself a little time. Wait until the worst of the tears are over. Then talk to Charlie. Tell him you want to stay just friends, or that you want to try becoming more in time, or that you hate his guts for not telling you how he really felt, or whatever you decide. But give it some time. Megan, I've seen him acting like more than a big brother with you for a long time. I think he loves you too. But I don't think he'd hurt you or take advantage of you. You're in too painful of a place right now to decide this. GIve yourself a few days. Then owl him." I give her a hug and notice a bulge in my robe pocket. Chocolate. Neville, I love you! You're the most thoughtful, amazing guy. I pull the chocolate out of my pocket. "Looks like Neville thought of everything."

She manages a small smile. "Chocolate and Puff girls always go together." Then she sighs. "Charlie owled me. I think he knows something's wrong, but I couldn't bring myself to tell him."

"Wait until Monday or Tuesday. That will be soon enough to talk to him. He's a big boy; he can learn to be patient." I look down at my feet--tigers. "We need Susan here. to make it official," I say softly.

"We do," she nodded "It's been a long time since we've had a Puff Girl's Night."

"Megan, I told Neville that I was going to bring you home for breakfast. He'll have it all ready for us in a couple hours. Is that okay with you?"

"You don't have to. I feel horrible enough that I woke you up. I just...I didn't want to be alone right now."

"Already done. Neville will take care of it. In the meanwhile, we'll have a little sleepover, eat chocolate, cry, talk about how stupid wizards can be," Except Neville, "sleep, do hair and nails, whatever you want. Okay?"

She smiles faintly. "Well, I tried to sleep and that was unsuccessful. And I've cried a lot."

"Well, now we'll eat chocolate and do our nails and cuss wizards, then we'll go to my place and have breakfast." I grin at her and toss her the thick chocolate bar Neville hid in my pocket.

She catches it and opens it, breaking off a piece before tossing it back to me. "Thanks for coming Hannah. I know I said it before, but I really appreciate it."

"That's what Puff Girls are for," I shrug. "So, what colour do you want your toe nails?"

Reading the Will with the Malfoys

Tue, 10 Jul 2007 15:39:43 GMT

I set up the room for the will reading. Mrs. Malfoy and Draco should be here soon. I make sure there is coffee and tea set out. Mr. Poppington is staying in the room, but I'm in charge. He is just observing. Actually, he said something about me taking my tests early, so maybe this is a sort of test too.

The receptionist escorts them into the room and gestures for them to join me and Mr. Poppington at the table.

Draco nods courteously at me and Mr. Poppington and sits down. "Good morning, Miss Abbott, Mr. Poppington." He seems much more calm today than he did on Friday, and I see something in his eyes which I can't quite place.

Mrs. Malfoy sits down after him, pulling her own chair out, I notice. She nods coolly, "Frankly, I am surprised I am included in the will. I understood that Draco would get everything."

"Would either of you care for tea or coffee before we get started?" Mrs. Malfoy shakes her head no, so I turn to Draco.

"Coffee for me, please," Draco says politely.

I pour Draco his coffee, then pass it on the tray with the fresh cream and sugar to him. Somehow I haven't noticed Mr. Poppington striving to be a good hostess while he's being an attorney, but it's different for Wizards than for Witches.

"Shall we get to the reading of the will then?" I ask.

"Yes, since that is the business at hand." Draco isn't as cool as he was on Friday, but I can tell that he's very interested in what he stands to inherit from his grandmother. I catch his mother's eye momentarily, but she's giving nothing away.

I nod and begin reading---"I, Lucera Catriona Rivili Malfoy, being of sound mind and body, do hereby write my last will and testament. I leave my heir, Draco Malfoy the contents of my personal vault at Gringott's." I look up from reading the will. "The current amount in there is 85,000 Galleons, 34,000 Sickles, and 10,000 knuts." I don't bother to look at Draco's face, but go back to reading the will.

"I give him all my business interests which include 15 Percent of Travetti's Specialities and 30 Percent of Ownership of the Madrid Dryads Quidditch team. Draco also is now the owner of my summer manor in France."

I have to look up here.

Like a true Malfoy, Draco's face shows only the slightest expression change but I can tell that he is pleased by the ghost of a smile which flickers across it.

" The Rivili Family Mansion in Madrid, Spain goes to my son and his bride." I look up at Mrs. Malfoy. I think she's surprised. "Mrs. Malfoy, since your husband cannot inherit any longer, this is completely yours." She nods. "The key for the manor is with Zaria Travetti. She'll also know about which wards are on it and how to get past them."

"The Malfoy Manor control was divided fifty fifty between Narcissa Malfoy and Lucera Malfoy when she sued to take control after Mr. Malfoy was imprisoned. Mrs. Malfoy, the complete control and ownership of the Manor now reverts back to you." Ah, Mrs. Malfoy couldn't hide a smile that time.

"70% control of the Malfoy assets will be Draco Malfoy's at his marriage, unless he has a sibling which he would split this with--also contingent on that sibling's marriage. He already has 10% control of the assets which will be increased to 30% control on his twenty-first birthday. Should Mrs. Narcissa Malfoy die, 100% control of the Malfoy assets goes to Draco Malfoy."

"The Malfoy Hunting Lodge in Denmark also goes to Draco Malfoy." I look up. "Any questions?

Meeting with Draco

Fri, 06 Jul 2007 20:21:32 GMT

I look at the clock. Draco should have been here five minutes ago. He's always been so prompt before. Somehow, I have an off feeling about this whole thing.

I get a message from the receptionist: "Mr. Malfoy here to see Miss Abbott." I check to see my robe is straight, and the pin I exchanged the earrings for is prominently displayed. The coffee is fresh and clean cups and fresh cream are on the tray beside it. Good: Professional, welcoming. I tap my wand on my throat and do a directed Sonorus. "Please send him right in, thank you."

Moments later, Draco comes through the door, his grey eyes noticeably colder than usual. "Hullo, Mr. Malfoy. Won't you take a seat and tell me how I can help you today?"

He takes a seat in front of me, but his expression remains cold and guarded. "I have much to say to you, Miss Abbott, and I ask that you let me have my say before you reply."

"Of course, Mr. Malfoy, I'm listening. But if you'd like a cup of coffee, I put it out especially for you." I did, too. For some reason I feel an even greater need to make a good impression on Malfoy than on my other clients. Must be because we were never especially kind to each other when we were in school.

He accepts the cup of coffee and then takes a deep breath. He's obviously trying to keep himself together. "Do you recall our discussion regarding my inheritance from my father? How the paperwork was to be completed by the 1st of July? But it appears that there is a little... problem now isn't there? My father broke out of Azkaban before the paperwork could be completed. Not only that, but my grandmother disowned me last week." As he speaks, his voice becomes louder and louder, and instead of simply being cold, his expression is hard and angry. He crosses his arms over his chest. "Do you realize what a position I have been put in because of this firm's negligence in expediting the paperwork? Everything, everything I have worked for I am going to lose!" He stands up, and I am afraid that he's going for his wand, but he simply paces the room, clearly agitated. "I have no choice. I am taking my business elsewhere. Somewhere where my accounts will be made top priority."

My heart starts beating wildly, but I remain externally calm. I just pray my magic doesn't go funny, as it sometimes does when I feel anxious. "Your father's escape did complicate the inheritance from him, and the paperwork was stalled by the Ministry because of it. However, while your grandmother may have verbally disinherited you, she never changed the paperwork." If he fires me, so be it, but if Knightly and Poppington lose the Malfoy accounts because of me, it could mean the end of my apprenticeship with them. "If you wish to have another attorney on the account, I am certain another can be found here at Knightly and Poppington," I add contritely.

Owls and Duty

Fri, 29 Jun 2007 18:41:30 GMT

An owl flies to me at my offices. I open it curiously. It's from Daddy.

My Dear Hannah,

I hope this finds you well. You probably know about the position your new step-mother is being considered for. This is a great honour, and I can think of no one who could better do the job than she. You know I love you, Hannah, but you greatly disappointed me when you did not come to my wedding. Now that your step-mother is seeking the highest magical office, it is important that we provide a united family behind her. I expect you to come over and be seen smiling and encouraging her when the Daily Prophet does their interview with our family on July 5th. I know you're hurting because you think I've replaced your mother—and perhaps you—in my heart. This is not the case. I do love Zemelda, but your mother will always be my first love and you will always be my little girl. I expect you to do your duty and reconcile with us and be here for the interview.

Love,

Your father.

I read the letter from Daddy. How could he? Doesn't he understand? I can't support Zemelda. I put my head down in my hands, trying to understand how I can respond. I get up and talk to my boss. "Mr. Poppington? I've had a family problem come up, and I was wondering if I could leave an hour early."

"Go, Miss Abbott. I hope things work out with your father. I'll see you Monday."

How did he know? Wait, Daddy is all the family I have. He knows that. D'oh Hannah. I take the letter and lock my office and head for the offices of the Daily Prophet. I stop at the reception desk. "May I please see Miss Megan Jones? It's regarding a story."

The witch there looks at me for a moment. "Does she know you're coming?"

"No. Will you tell her Hannah Abbott of Knightly and Poppington is here and that it involves the story she's researching on the candidates for Minister of Magic?"

The witch writes a note and then takes out her wand, muttering a spell and it disappears. "Message sent."

A few moments pass and Megan appears, slipping around the corner and down the hall that connects the reception area with the rest of the office. "Miss Abbott," she greets me, glancing at the witch at the reception area quickly before back to me. "It's good to see you."

"Miss Jones. I have news for you that might impact your story." I glance over at the receptionist, then whisper, "Can we go talk some where privately?"

"We can go to my flat if you'd like," she whispers then speaks up a bit louder, taking a professional tone again. "Let's go to a better place for this," and leads me back outside to Diagon Alley.
Once we're a few steps away she sighs. "Sorry about that. They're still waiting for me to mess up somehow so I'm careful." She frowns. "What's wrong? Or do you want to go talk at my flat or somewhere else?"

"Anywhere no one will eavesdrop. Here is even fine." I pull out the letter. "I wasn't kidding about this involving your assignment to cover the candidates for Minister. Look." I hand her the lettter. "Megan, what should I do?" Seeing her looking at the letter brings back all my hurt and worries, and I feel my vision blurring as my eyes grow watery. I bite my lower lip, trying not to cry.

Megan frowns as she reads the letter. She glances up at me when she's done and frowns even more. Without another word she takes my arm, leading me down the street a bit. With Megan still holding my arm, I feel the feeling of apparation and then we're outside of her flat. "No prying eyes here," she offers me a small smile as she unlocks the door.

I follow her into the flat and sit on an offered chair. Mittens must sense how upset I am, because she curls up on my lap and begins purring loudly. I look down at Mittens and one of the tears that has been threatening to spill splashes on her nose. She cleans it off with her paw and looks at me with what I can only interpret as forgiveness.

Megan comes over and touches my shoulder, then offers me a tissue from the box she's holding.

I take it gratefully then look at Megan again. "Megan, what should I do? I want my dad in my life. He used to be so cool--Zemelda has ruined him. But if the price for having my dad again is publically supporting her, then how can I live with myself?"

"Which would you feel worse about? Having your father and supporting her, or not having your father but not having to give support to her?" she asks.

"Why can't I have my dad and my integrity? He says he loves me. Would he really want me to be dishonest?" The tears start falling freely, and I hide behind the tissue.

Megan puts her arm around my shoulders, giving me a one armed hug. "I don't think he'd want that. I have a feeling that Zemelda is behind this somehow."

"I've thought that she had him under some kind of spell or potion all along, but I can't prove it. But even if he's not enchanted, I think she'd still pressure him for me to be part of her little write-up in the paper." I stroke Mittens then skritch her behind the ears. "You know what really scares me? What if she really is the better of the two candidates?"

Megan sighs. "Do you think she is? Personally, I don't think either of them are good choices. Charlie's ex girlfriend, Daphne, she was our year, but Slytherin. The other candidate is her mother."

"Daphne's mother? She hated that a pair of Hufflepuffs were made head boy and girl our last year. She made that abundantly clear to me one day. If she got that attitude from her mother, and I suspect she did--furthermore, prejudiced parents are generally worse than their children--well, she may be worse. I can't stand Zemelda, but she does seem free of blood purity issues. But I still think she's using my dad to show how liberal minded she is." I sigh in frustration

"Well, one thing at a time. First, do you think you could publically support Zemelda?"

"No. But I might be able to be publically neutral, I mean, if I could do it in such a way that didn't hurt anyone . . ." I run my fingers angrily through my hair. "No! I don't want to! I just want my dad, no strings attached."

"Then you've got that much figured out," Megan answers. "Tell him you want him back. And if he's difficult, maybe it will just take time, though that could be after the elections."

"So just let it happen? Make everyone wonder why her step-daughter won't support her and play the whole happy family game when she might be a better Minister than Greengrass and take the chance that my dad will never speak to me again? Megan, he said he was disappointed in me. Disappointed. He's never said that to me before."

Megan thinks this over, biting her lower lip thoughtfully. "I guess it comes down to which you feel you want the most. Don't worry about the article or public opinion. What do you want the most?"

"I want my dad back, but not with Zemelda." I try to smile. "I can't have what I want, Megan. You're the reporter--how are you going to report it?"

"That depends on if I get that specific assignment..." she trails off and slowly smiles. "And if I get it, maybe we could work it out so you won't have to publicly support her, but you aren't drawing attention to your dislike of her?"

"That might work. You'll tell me how you would do it? Maybe Neville will have a suggestion too when I tell him tonight." I look down at the sleeping cat on my lap. I don't think she wants me to leave. "I'd better head for home." I glance from Mittens to Megan.

Megan nods. "I'll get to work on something." She looks a bit excited. "In fact, I already have an idea. This could work, Hannah. Just give me a day or two. And it might help if you refuse to interview with any other Prophet writers or reporters."

I smile. "I can do that. Maybe I can help you too." I pick up the purring kitty and hand her to Megan. "Thank you. You're the best."

Megan takes the kitten then hugs me. "It's what friends do. Just keep your chin up, Hannah, alright? I'll contact you in the next day or two and let you know if they agree, as well as how to put the proper twist on your relationship." She pauses and gives a small laugh. "I hope the Prophet's ideals aren't rubbing off on me."

"No, you're just being a true Hufflepuff." I give her a hug in return. "And a true friend. Thanks, Megan." I head for the door, then Apparate to our flat.

That Time of the Month

Tue, 26 Jun 2007 03:42:28 GMT

I roll over in bed, uncomfortable and headachey. Neville's hand trails across my chest as I roll. Ouch. I move it away from me. He starts to wake up and sleepily drapes his arm around me. "No, don't," I say firmly, like I might to still an over-eager puppy.

I get out of bed and head to the bathroom. I look in the mirror. Why does he even want me? Three new spots--fortunately two are in my hairline and can be hidden--but the third? right at the corner of my mouth. I dab it with a little toothpaste hoping to dry it out. I have dark undereye circles, the pores on my nose are too big. I just feel so ugly today. I step on the scale--up nearly a half a stone. Good thing my work robes are loose. I step in to the shower and notice I feel almost sunburnt as a wash myself--especially in certain areas . . . oh! that's what's the matter! I think back to the calendar--I suppose it is time for Eve's curse. I put some emergency supplies--which I have kept carefully hidden from Neville--into my pocket as I get dressed. Now to get some breakfast and get out of here before Neville gets up and discovers how ornery I am feeling today. I think of what I want for breakfast and give a half smile--well, my cravings are true to form. I just want some hot chocolate and some croissants spread with Nutella. I open the bathroom door to head for the kitchen.

Framed

Sun, 17 Jun 2007 22:35:49 GMT

Nina said to pick up the frame today. It makes me a little nervous to go out by myself with all that's happened this week, but I don't want Neville to know. I hurry to Travetti's Jewelry.

I step inside once more and I spot Nina in the middle of the room, opening up the ring display and putting some more jewelry in the case. She looks up to see me entering and she offers me a quick smile then turns back to what she's doing.

"Hi Nina. You said in your note that it would be ready today."

"Yes, I did. Just let me put these last few in here and I'll get it for you." Nina slid some more displays containing rings into the glass case, then taps it with her wand, sealing the case. "Do you want to come into the workshop so I can show the results privately?"

"Thank you, I'd like that very much." I wait while she finishes then follow her into the workshop.

When I enter, she closes the door and the lights turn even brighter. I see boxes scattered in some corners, a large work desk with half finished jewlelry and some jewels in small glass containers, sapphires, emeralds, pearls, diamonds. Nina waves some of the mess away with her wand. "Sorry about the mess. I couldn't find some black diamonds and had a panic attack looking for them earlier."

"Wow. This is really a brilliant set up." I'll have to tell Neville about this place . . . wait, no, strike that. It would look like I'm hinting. I watch while she pulls something out of a desk. "My picture?"

Nina nods, and then shows me what looks to be a thin black square case. She takes off the top, and hands it to me. "I tried to keep Nicolas from looking at it. He snuck a glance when I wasn't looking. But all the charms are in place."

I feel my ears grow hot. "Nicolas saw?" No male was supposed to see it but Neville--well, and Colin. I open the case. The frame is beautiful, silver with vines and buds with a bit of opal inlay at the corners. "The opal's a nice touch." I didn't order it, but I like it very much.

"He only caught a glimpse of it. He didn't say anything though." She smiles at my comment. "Do you like it? I can take it off if it's too much."

"No, it's very pretty, thanks. I pull out the balance I owe her. "Here, or is it more now with the opal?"

"Oh no, don't worry about the opal. The same price." She takes the rest of the payment, then puts the cover back on the box. "The box is charmed so only you or whoever you intend to give it to, your boyfriend, can open it. Just in case someone tries to get a look at it without your permission."

"You put the charm on after Nicolas peeked? He said nothing, right? Wasn't laughing or anything, I hope."
"No, he wasn't laughing. Didn't say anything either. I guess he had other stuff on his mind."

"Okay, probably was thinking about his girlfriend and how glad he is that he didn't get stuck with me," I laugh.

Nina just smiles. "More likely about the breakout. We ran into Draco and a few... others a couple days ago. He wasn't taking the news well."

"I'm a little nervous about it as well. My mum was killed by Death Eaters. They nearly ruined the life of someone close to me. But he was made of strong and brave stuff--he just became greater. Having all those Death Eaters loose is bringing it all back. So I understand."

"I'm sorry about that. Nicolas was almost killed a year ago by some members of a fringe group that supported Voldemort, so even though I never lost a family member, I know what it's like to be afraid of it." She walks over and opens the door. "I'm glad your friend became stronger though. It's things like this that measure a person's strength and will. I hope your boyfriend likes your gift."

"I hope so too. You've been great, Nina. If I ever have any other jewelry business, or a friend who wants to know where to go, well, I'll tell them to come to you. If you ever need an attorney, ask for me." I pick up the box and smile and Nina.

"Oh I hope I never do. But if I do, I'll look you up."

I step out the door and hurriedly Apparate back to our flat.

Travetti Jewelry

Tue, 12 Jun 2007 18:19:25 GMT

I've thought about what kind of frame I want for the photo for Neville's birthday. Something silver, I think. I only have a few minutes during lunch though . . . Maybe that jewelry store I was in before. They'd do silver work. I grab the photo and walk down to the Travetti's Jewelry store

i look inside to see that they're open, and I open the door, hearing a slight swish as I enter. There are a few mingling around in the store, and I make my way around, searching for a display that might indicate they do frames. I see nothing, and I sigh in disappointment. Perhaps they don't make frames, and they just specialize in jewelry. "That's a big sigh," I hear a teasing feminine voice say behind me. "If you can't find what you're looking for, just tell me, and I can probably design it." The speaker now moves into my line of sight. "Hello. I'm Nina," she says with a friendly smile and holds out her hand. "What exactly are you looking for Miss--"

" Abbott--erm, Hannah," I say shaking her hand. "I was just looking for a silver frame for a photo I had taken for my boyfriend's birthday."

I put the large envelope with the photo in it on the counter. "Could you make a frame for a photo this size? Something that would show it off a little?"

"Hannah. I like that name. It's pretty. Yes I can make frames. We don't generally get a lot of orders for them, so I don't have anything of the like displayed." She picks up the envelope, pushing back her braided hair. "Is there anything special on the frame you'd like? Engravings or anything like that? I'm quite talented with calligraphy. Or perhaps have the frame change into different shades, depending on the amount of light on it?"

"Different shades would be nice, especially if they were metallic, you know, silver, gold, rose gold, copper . . . But for my boyfriend? He's an Herbologist--" I show her my gold bracelet with linked flowers. "He gave me this. So maybe something with vines and leaves?"

I feel my face grow warm. "I'm usually a lot more modest than this . . . but where it's for my boyfriend . . ." I trail off aimlessly, feeling the head increase in my face.

"Well there's no point in being modest all the time," Nina says lightly, her eyes twinkling at me. "It's no fun." She smiles at me again and takes a look at the photo , holding it in a way so no one else can see it but her. "Wow. You photograph very well. You said your boyfriend's a Herbologist? So perhaps red and gold vines with a few leaves on the sides of the frame? It'll really stand out against the silver." As she speaks I see her eyes light up and I can tell she passionate about what she does.

Maybe Green and Gold vines? Green is his favorite color. But you could put a few red buds on the vines." I suggest.

She nods and places the photo back into the envelope, sealing it shut with a tap of her wand. Seconds later I see a piece of parchment and quill in her hand, and she's writing out the instructions. As she's writing,she makes a light tapping with her other hand against the counter. She stops as she looks up. "Would you like a few anti accident charms placed on it as well? Like anti-wetness, anti-flammable, anti-breakable? I'm not good with those but my brother Nicolas is, always has been and I'm sure he'd be willing to put them on the frame."

"Okay, that's a good idea. How much will it cost and how long will it take?"

"Let me think," she murmurs as she starts tapping. I hear her start muttering, writing out and crossing out numbers. "So many Sickles for charms.... how much does he charge for them?" After a few minutes she finally looks up. "30 Galleons."

That's about 160 pounds sterling . . . but I want the best for him. "All right. It's a deal. When will it be finished?"

"As soon as I can tear my brother away from his brooms and Lavender Brown, so he can do the charms on them, which hopefully won't take too long, perhaps by this weekend? It would normally be done by Wednesday, but I'm low on silver, and I have to make a trip back to Madrid to restock." She writes up something on another slip of parchment and hands it to me. "That's your copy of the order, with the amount to be paid. If you like you can pay now, and then come in to get it, or pay half now and pay the rest when you come to pick it up, or pay when you come to pick it up. Either way is good."

I put 20 galleons on the table. "I'll pay the balance when I pick it up." I stop and think about what else she says. "Your brother's girlfriend is Lavender Brown?" I grin knowingly. "I went to school with her."

"Did you now? Hogwarts then?" She nods and then rolls her eyes. "I went to Beauxbatons. Is there something imperative I need to know about her so I can warn my brother to save his sanity and get out now?" She pauses. "Although I sincerely doubt he'd listen to me. I think he's enjoying whatever torture she's putting him through. Help us all."

"Well, she doesn't seem like the kind to torture anyone, but she did get around, if you know what I mean." I think back. I hate to gossip, but if it will protect her brother, she should know. "I think she was a little obsessive about Ron Weasley too.

Nina blushes. "I can understand about that. So what do you do?"

Whoa, does she have a thing for Ron? "Yes, Hannah Abbott. I'm an attorney--well, not quite a full one. I take my exams in six more months."

"Good luck with that. I had thought about going into Healing, but Merlin forbid anyone in my family do what they actually want. I love designing and jewlery, but I would have liked the actual thought of another option." She stops as we both hear a swish. "Ah, more customers. Well anyways, let me get started on this," she pats the envelope. "And if I get done early, I'll send you an Owl, okay?"

"Okay, I'm at Knightly and Poppington. Thank you." I hurry off.

Friend talk

Mon, 04 Jun 2007 23:12:06 GMT

A large tawny owl wings its way to the office building with a package and a letter. I open the package, and there is my photo! Oh, I think Neville will like it. My goodness, do I really look like that? I might show my puff girl friends, but other than them, this photo will be for Neville's eyes only. I put the photo in my desk drawer and send the owl with my thanks, and an envelope containing five galleons back to Colin.

A few minutes later there is a knock on the door , but instead of someone that works with me, when the door opens, Megan peeks inside. "Are you busy?" she asks with a smile.

"Not too terribly. Come in. How have you been?" I get up from behind my desk and give her a hug. "That was from me. Are you here to see Hannah or Miss Abbott?"

"Well, more Hannah, though when I came in I said it was to see Miss Abbott," she admits, hugging me back. "Is that alright?"

I laugh. "It's fine. Hey, you want to see what I'm giving Neville for his birthday?"

She nods, sitting down in the chair across from me. "Isn't there a bit of time until his birthday?

"Yes, it's not until the end of next month, but I wanted to take time to find a frame and I had no idea how long it would take to have it developed or anything, Colin was faster than I expected." I pull the photo out of my desk and hand it to Megan.

Her eyes grow a bit wide and she looks from the photo to me then back at the photo. "Since when have you ever dressed like this?" she asks, surprised. "You know, if Neville didn't love you already..."

"I bought it just for the photo. I'll probably never wear it again. Is it too immodest?" I ask anxiously.

"Not for Neville," she grins, handing it back. "He'll love it."

I grin happily, then write a little note to Mr. Knightly. "May I take a long lunch? My friend is here to see me. --H. Abbott" I then fold it into a paper airplane and tap it with my wand.

"The closer it gets to my taking the tests, the less strict Knightly and Poppington have become. I think they'd like me to stay after I get my full qualifications, so they're being nice. Watch, he'll say it's all right."

Moments after I say this, a paper crane flies into the room. "Abbott--you should learn origami--your planes are far too Muggle. Of course you may take a long lunch. I'll see you in an hour. --Knightly."

"Let's go," I say, showing Megan the crane.

"I would like to learn how to make one of those," Megan laughs, getting to her feet. "Those seem helpful for the office too."

"I need to learn how to fold mine into a crane, but I can show you how to do the paper airplane." I get up from my desk and join Megan. "Where do you want to go for lunch?"

"Anywhere would be good. I'm starving," she admits. "It's been a busy day."

"Anywhere you want. I'm hungry too. What are you in the mood for?"

Megan pauses. "How about Chinese?" she suggests.

"Okay." We walk to the Dragon's Pagoda. I'm pleased to see we're in time for the special lunch buffet. We line up together, loading our plates with whatever we fancy. Mine has lots of shrimp and some of those whole snap beans cooked in peanut oil, plus a little bit of this and that. I follow Megan back to the table. "So, tell me how things have been going at work since you saw me."

"Merlin, Hannah you would have been so proud of me. Mercia called me into her office. She was so angry but I didn't back down at all. I used the spell you showed me with the magical signature. She was so upset. I think she was going to fire me on the spot," she adds, though since she is smiling I have a feeling that things went well. "I threatened her with court and exposing her and the others for all they've done."

"I am proud of you!" I eat one of my shrimp. "How about the rest of your life? How are things going with Wayne? And with the research?"